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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23396218">firedrill</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeruth/pseuds/maeruth'>maeruth</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>afterschool [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Promare (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Graduation, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Rape/Non-con Elements, Teacher-Student Relationship, but just mentions/references to it</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:35:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,490</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23396218</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maeruth/pseuds/maeruth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Graduation was coming up fast, and Lio wanted Mr. Thymos to reconsider their relationship. </p><p>If only his friends would stay out of it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>afterschool [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>shoutout to ryan &amp; cyn for reading over this like 12 times + giving amazing feedback. sending yall an ubereats with lots of love as I post this ♡</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lio stopped mid-chew to stare at the pair in front of him, holding a bag of hot cheetos in one hand. “You’re moving to Paris?” </p><p>Meis and Gueira nodded in unison, but Gueira was the one who began to elaborate. “Not right away, obviously. We were thinking maybe a few months after graduation. Prolly get a summer job to afford plane tickets.”</p><p>Lio swallowed, lowering the bag down into his lap. His other hand held a pair of chopsticks— something he had picked up from Meis a few months ago. </p><p>“To avoid gross cheeto fingers,” he had said then, tapping his chopsticks together. “It takes fuckin’ days for the red to go away.”</p><p>“I dunno, I kinda like it.” Lio remembered Gueria saying, popping a handful of chips into his mouth. “Kinda looks like paint, don’t it?”</p><p>“It don’t.” Meis and Lio said in unison. </p><p>But suddenly, Lio’s appetite for the snack disappeared as Gueria went on about applying for work as security for the local museum, while Meis had looked into getting into beauty school before they left. They hadn’t had a proper sleepover in months, and the one night they manage to get together, they bring <em> this </em>up? And in the middle of a fierce Smash Bros. fight?</p><p>Lio tried not to let his irritation creep into his voice. “Europe isn’t like the States. You’ll need to apply for citizenship, learn French— and other languages, too— and they don’t exactly like foreigners, I hope you two know.”</p><p>“Well, duh, dude,” Gueira said, “that’s why you’re comin’ with us.” </p><p>Meis reached into the bag in Lio’s lap, “Don’t you remember? We said we’d go once we graduated.”</p><p>Of course Lio remembered. It was a promise they made when they were kids, which meant it wasn’t a <em> real </em> promise, especially if it involved <em> moving literal countries. </em>They could have agreed to move to the moon once they were eighteen and 10-year-old Lio would happily fund the entire project. </p><p>“I only lived there for a few years. And that was in <em> London </em>.” Lio sighed. If he had any free hands, he would be rubbing his temples. “It’s different from Paris. I’d only visited a few times when I was a kid.”</p><p>“Look, Lio,” Gueira said, because he was much more observant than people gave him credit for and probably sensed his irritation from the very beginning, “I know we said a bunch of shit when we were kids, but I really think getting out of here is our best bet for… I dunno, a better life?”</p><p><em> I like my life just fine, </em> Lio thought, <em> I have everything I want </em> — <em> you two, Mr. Thymos, and a Nintendo Switch. </em></p><p>Meis was quiet during their conversation, which wasn’t unusual of him, but it still irked Lio. He turned to him, “What’s your dad going to say when you suddenly up and leave?”</p><p>“‘S why I’m not telling him. I’m leaving to get away from him and the rest of my family.” He answered simply. He flipped his hair, braided neatly by Lio earlier that day, over his shoulder. “You already knew that.”</p><p>Lio had forgotten about his familial situation for a moment, and the guilt hit him like a stab to the chest. He was more than familiar with Meis’ childhood— he picked up a knack for hiding bruises with makeup by helping Meis, after all. Lio’s mind had just been occupied with someone for so long and so obsessively that he had neglected to even <em> ask </em>about his situation.</p><p>“Okay, okay,” Lio said, the guilt getting to him. “Say I go with you two. How long would we even stay there?”</p><p>“As long as we fuckin’ want,” Gueira replied, rolling on to his side on Lio’s bedroom floor. Meis batted his hand away when he reached for his bag of hot fries. “Forever, if we want to.”</p><p>“That doesn’t sound <em> too </em> awful.” Meis said, smiling in Lio’s direction. “Even if we’ll probably get sick of each other and try to kill Gueria.”</p><p>“Wh— Why <em> me?”  </em></p><p>Meis shrugged. “The weakest goes first.”</p><p>The brunet scoffed, picking up his joycon. “You’re just pissy I keep kicking your ass. Not my fault you got a shitty main.” </p><p>The heaviness in the air left as soon as the game resumed, but it left Lio thinking.</p><p>If they were leaving— what did that mean for Lio and Mr. Thymos? </p><p>Lio still refused to tell them. Even though he so desperately wanted to tell them about prom night, about <em> everything </em> — the drugging, the crying, the sex, falling in <em> love </em>— he wasn’t entirely convinced they would be onboard with their unorthodox relationship. </p><p>But it was something he never wanted to end, despite leaving for college or Paris. The realization of wanting to stay with Mr. Thymos for the rest of his life suddenly dawned on him. He couldn’t just leave Mr. Thymos behind without securing their relationship. Without leaving some kind of proof behind that they were meant for each other, and <em> always </em>would be meant for each other, till death did them part. </p><p>Fuck. </p><p>He needed to dip into his savings. </p><p>△<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Was proposing supposed to be as nerve wracking as it is? Because Lio would much rather come out to his parents and face their wrath than actually go through with this. </p><p>Once Meis and Gueira left the next morning, Lio took to searching through a handful— well, if combing the entire city’s jewelry stores counted as “a handful”— of jewelry stores for the remainder of the day. He received a lot of odd looks, seeing as he hardly looked to be old enough to be buying an engagement ring let alone <em> eighteen </em>, but it hardly bothered him. When he pulled out a sleek credit card to pay, those odd looks disappeared. </p><p>Keeping calm all day during school hours was agony. Monday classes were already a drag, despite the buzz of graduation being only a few weeks away, but with the velvet box sitting in his pocket, Lio could hardly sit still.</p><p>Now, standing outside of the faculty offices after school, Lio wasn’t sure he wanted to go through with this after all. </p><p>He hadn’t even given thought to how he was going to go about actually proposing. Asking him outright wasn’t the most <em> romantic </em> way to approach it, but then again, it wasn’t as if Mr. Thymos would ever agree to going out on an actual <em> date </em> with him, as much as Lio would kill to do so. There weren’t any “romantic” spots on campus, besides the back stairwell that was used by couples. </p><p>Lio wanted to propose to him here, anyways. It was where it all started, which was a bit romantic in itself, he supposed. Their relationship was unique, and thus called for an unorthodox proposal. </p><p>He didn’t knock, simply let himself into the faculty offices as usual. Mr. Thymos sat at his desk, tracksuit jacket zipped all the way up to his chin. He looked up from the paperwork on his desk, the habitual fear visible in his eyes as he scrambled to his feet. </p><p>“I was just about to head out,” He said, though they both knew it was a lie. </p><p>Lio didn’t have time to play hard to get today. He gripped the small velvet box behind his back tightly as he neared him. “This won’t take long. It’s important.”</p><p>Mr. Thymos must have noticed something strange in his tone. It didn’t have that playful lilt to it. “Are you… okay?”</p><p>“Yes, just— just listen.” He stood directly in front of him, now. The anxiety was absolutely tearing him apart.</p><p>“I, um,” For the first time in his life, Lio didn’t know where to start. Where <em> could </em> he start? </p><p>He felt his face heat up as he chose his next words carefully, the small box heavy in his hands behind his back. “I know our relationship hasn’t been the most… <em> normal, </em>Mr. Thymos, but I still— I still love you. A lot. I didn’t think I could ever really feel this way towards anyone, but then I met you.”</p><p>Mr. Thymos glanced at what Lio was hiding behind his back. “So you’ve told me… are you sure you’re okay, Lio?”</p><p>He wasn’t sure at that point. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. He was <em> proposing. </em> He was proposing and he was over the moon about it, just imagining the different ways Mr. Thymos would say yes. Then the planning would come after, and they’d get to bicker over which shade of cream went best with Lio’s eyes or Mr. Thymos’ skin. Lio remembered Mr. Thymos telling a few of the girls in class that he preferred older music; they would dance to Frankie Valli at their wedding. Then after the wedding came actual <em> married </em> life. Lio could do all of the work, so Mr. Thymos would be able to stay home and— </p><p>The image of Mr. Thymos in an apron, asking what he wanted for dinner that evening, shouldn’t have gotten Lio blushing as much as it currently was. He’d make such a <em> good </em>wife. </p><p>Lio finally cleared his throat, pulling the box out from behind him with a newfound confidence. Mr. Thymos’ expression changed almost instantly, the worried crease in his brow melting away as his eyes widened. </p><p>“Mr. Thymos, with graduation coming up, there’s a lot to consider in terms of my future,” he began, voice steady, “but no matter what direction my career will take me, I know I want you there every step of the way. I can’t imagine anyone else in your place.”</p><p>He flipped the velvet box open with ease, revealing a silver band cushioned inside. A small diamond sat at the center. </p><p>“Galo,” Lio said, “Will you marry me?”</p><p>Time seemed to stand still. </p><p>Mr. Thymos stared at the ring like it would leap out at him. There was something unreadable in his face, an emotion Lio couldn’t quite put a name to. He expected some initial shock, but not dead silence. He expected happy tears, not this lukewarm reaction. </p><p>After a few more moments of silence, Lio pulled the ring from the box and reached for Mr. Thymos’ left hand. He was probably so overcome with happiness that he couldn’t answer, or even <em> move.  </em></p><p>Relief washed over him once he saw the ring fit perfectly, but it was short lived once he heard a quiet murmur from above him. “—can’t.”</p><p>Lio looked up. “What?” </p><p>“I—” Mr. Thymos didn’t look away from the band around his finger. “I can’t. I <em> can’t.”  </em></p><p>It wasn’t physically possible, but Lio could <em> feel </em>his heart shattering to pieces. </p><p>It was hammering in his chest, too loud in his ears. “What do you mean you ‘can’t’?”</p><p>Mr. Thymos shook his head, “Lio, you need to— <em> this </em> needs to stop. Right here.”</p><p>“No, it doesn’t,” He said, stepping towards his teacher as he took a step back, “It doesn’t. I— I <em> love </em> you. I fucking <em> love </em> you!” He laughed, exasperated and almost wild, “Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Everything we did, everything we <em> shared </em>, just doesn’t matter to you?” </p><p>Mr. Thymos had bumped into a desk at the front of the room, backed into a corner by Lio. He gripped the edge of the desk tightly, “None of what we did was-was <em> consensual </em>—”</p><p>Lio gripped at his hair, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. “That doesn’t <em> matter </em> , you still enjoyed it. You know you did. You wanted me as much as I wanted you, as much as I <em> still </em> want you.”</p><p>“I <em> never </em> wanted this!”</p><p>“You never fought back!” He snapped, pulling Mr. Thymos in by his lanyard, “Never told anyone else, never-never threatened to tell my parents or call the cops, never even told Foresight—”</p><p>“I couldn’t, you <em> know </em> I couldn’t, you had those photos of me and of <em> you </em> .” He was trembling, now, eyes becoming glassy with tears. Only this time, Lio didn’t feel like kissing them away. “Do you know how <em> miserable </em> I’ve been this entire time?”</p><p>Lio flinched. “But you… we—”</p><p>Mr. Thymos wasn’t finished. “This entire time, I’ve just— asked myself <em> why </em> . Out of everyone to pick, why did you have to do this to <em> me?” </em> There was something in his tone that betrayed the tears in his eyes, something hot and, for the first time, <em> angry.  </em></p><p>Lio’s grip on his lanyard loosened.</p><p>Mr. Thymos was becoming blurry, and Lio realized it was because he was crying. They didn’t stop, falling down his cheeks the more he tried to blink them away. The blonde furiously wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his uniform sweater, bottom lip trembling. </p><p>How fucking <em> pathetic </em> he must look to Mr. Thymos right now, sniffling and shaking like some— <em> child </em>. </p><p>Which is probably what he’ll <em> always </em> be to him. A rich kid throwing a tantrum after one of his toys breaks. Crying when he doesn’t get his way. </p><p>And Lio was so <em> used </em>to getting his way. </p><p>“But I…” He tried, throat aching and voice terribly small, “I love you. I can’t— I can’t help it.”</p><p>Lio wasn’t sure if the sight of him crying moved Mr. Thymos in some way, because the man sighed, gently coaxing the fingers wrapped around his lanyard away. He held his hand— <em> actually </em> held it, and Lio <em> let </em>him, noticing for the first time just how well their hands fit together— with both of his. There was something in his face like pity, but there was also a kind of sadness there that made Lio’s stomach turn and heart ache. It was different from the usual sadness, the tired, defeated look in Mr. Thymos’ eyes that he had grown so accustomed to. More than the fear Mr. Thymos reserved just for him. </p><p>Lio’s tears fell faster. </p><p>“Lio, maybe,” Mr. Thymos licked his lips, pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts, “Maybe we… <em> did </em> have a chance, somewhere, but… not like <em> this. </em> Not when I’m your <em> teacher </em> . Not when you— if you had <em> waited, </em>or even just told me that you felt this way, things wouldn’t have gotten like this.”</p><p>Lio felt something small and heavy in the palm of his hand. The engagement ring glinted with the sun rays streaming through the window. Colors danced over his sweater, pink, blue, green. </p><p>“I can’t accept it.” Mr. Thymos said. He almost sounded sorry. Maybe part of him was— maybe part of him <em> wanted </em>this as much as Lio did. Maybe he had been building a whole life in his head right alongside Lio. </p><p>If only Lio hadn’t cornered him in his office all those months ago. If only he hadn’t treated him like that. If only he hadn’t drugged him. If only he hadn’t...</p><p>Lio stared at the diamond. </p><p>“What the hell are you doing?” </p><p>They looked up towards the doorway. Meis held a bobby pin between his fingers, glaring daggers— at Lio. </p><p>Picking the lock to a door was smallfry for someone like Meis. Lio scrubbed at his eyes again, pulling away from Mr. Thymos. “Meis, this isn’t— we were just talking—”</p><p>“Is that a <em> ring?” </em>Meis looked from Lio’s hand to Mr. Thymos, who was fumbling for an explanation. His grip was tight on the doorknob, and Lio was afraid he was about to rip it off and fling it at Mr. Thymos. </p><p>“I can explain, if you would just <em> listen,” </em> Lio tried, walking towards the boy, who took steps backwards and away from him. Meis took off into the hallway, Lio storming after him as he tucked the ring into his back pocket. </p><p>“Meis, <em> Meis, </em> goddammit, would you <em> stop?”  </em>He flagged him down just before he entered the stairwell, grabbing one of his wrists to stop him from leaving. Irritation seeped into his voice, the ache in his throat gone. “I can explain everything, just—”</p><p>“What explanation could you <em> possibly </em> have for— for <em> that?” </em>Meis’ tried to pull his wrist back, but Lio’s grip was tight. “Why the hell was he proposing to you?”</p><p>“He wasn’t,” Lio said, voice surprisingly calm despite the anxiety running through his veins, “I was.” </p><p>Meis didn’t respond right away, just stared with eyes blown wide. Lio expected this. He knew he and Gueira wouldn’t understand, which is why he put off telling them about everything until the very last possible moment. It would be better if they didn’t know. </p><p>When Meis didn’t say anything after a few moments, Lio continued. “I— We’ve been dating since the beginning of the semester. It started off as something physical but then-then things changed. When we were talking about graduation the other night, I realized I didn’t... I didn’t want to break things off with him.”</p><p>For a moment, it felt fucking wonderful to get it off of his chest. </p><p>But then—</p><p>“Oh,” Meis’ voice was quiet, and he spoke so slowly that Lio instantly regretted telling him the truth, “I know you’ve been screwing with Mr. Thymos.”</p><p>It was like getting punched in the gut. </p><p>All this time. Lio was so careful to cover his tracks, triple lock every door, draw the blinds in every classroom, clean up his messes. </p><p>This entire <em> time.  </em></p><p>Lio felt the air leave him, and his grip tightened on Meis’ wrist. “You— what?”</p><p>“I fucking <em> know.” </em>He punctuated each word like a stab. “I’ve known since spring break.”</p><p>
  <em> Spring fucking break.  </em>
</p><p>Two entire months. Two whole goddamn <em> months.  </em></p><p> “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the way you look at him? Or how he looks at <em> you?” </em>Meis spat, “And all those times you’d sneak off to the gym?” </p><p>“I don’t-don’t understand,” Lio stuttered, “You didn’t tell me, you didn’t tell anyone else?”</p><p>“As if anyone else would believe me.”</p><p>“Then why are you getting so upset? You <em> knew. </em>You knew we were dating—”</p><p><em> “Dating? </em> You call that dating?” Meis barked out a laugh, the sound making Lio’s blood boil. He was <em> mocking </em>them. “I’m upset for Mr. Thymos. I can’t imagine being stuck with my abuser for the rest of my life.”</p><p>Lio narrowed his eyes. “We’re in <em> love.” </em></p><p>“You’re goddamn insane,” Meis yanked his wrist from Lio’s grasp, knocking into the door to the stairwell. “You’re <em> delusional, </em>Lio, for fuck’s sake.”</p><p>Something snapped in Lio, and the initial fear he felt moments before turned into hot, boiling anger. “Oh, <em> I’m </em> the delusional one, huh? Says the dipshit who wants to run away to Europe because god forbid <em> daddy </em> tells him to cut his hair again.”</p><p>Meis slammed the door to the stairwell open, fuming. “You think Thymos is really going to marry you— <em> you, </em> some rich kid who doesn’t give a fuck about anyone but himself? You think he’s gonna settle down and marry his goddamn <em> abuser?” </em></p><p>“It wasn’t abuse,” Lio followed him, hot on his heels. “You don’t know what the fuck it was— what is <em> is.” </em></p><p>“I don’t think it’s <em> anything </em>anymore,” Meis laughed bitterly again, “He fucking dumped you. How much did that ring even cost you? Did you put it on mommy’s credit card?”</p><p>“At least my parents can pay for my shit.”</p><p>“Fuck off.”</p><p>“You know, I was even thinking of letting you and Gueira have a turn with Mr. Thymos, but maybe we really <em> should </em> just elope. <em> I </em>can afford to do it.”</p><p>“God, do you even— Lio, do you even <em> hear </em> yourself?” Meis turned on him in an instant, towering over him as he backed him into the wall of the stairwell. His eyes were on fire. “You’re just a kid playing pretend with our <em> teacher, </em> man. I’ve seen the way he flinches around you, he’s terrified of you. He doesn’t love you. He <em> can’t </em>love you. You’ve made sure of that.”</p><p>Lio matched his glare, mouth set in a snarl as he shoved Meis by the chest. “You just fucking <em> love </em> acting like you know better than me. I <em> know </em>he loves me.”</p><p>“You don’t know a goddamn thing, Lio, get off your delusional high horse. I went in there to try to talk some sense into you, but I think you’re way past listening. Even to me.”</p><p>“I don’t <em> have </em> to fucking listen to you,” Lio snapped, shoving him again, “Why the hell would I listen to some broken kid who can’t even stand up to his own <em> father?” </em> </p><p>Hurt flashed through Meis’ face, gone in an instant. He balled his fists at his sides, “I’m stopping you— I’m stopping <em>all</em> of this before it gets worse and <em>you</em> wind up in jail.” </p><p>Meis shoved him back, Lio’s back knocking into the wall behind him. Then he was turning, taking his first step down the stairs with long hair fluttering behind him, and Lio’s hands twitched but he didn’t mean to— he would <em> never </em> mean to, it was an accident, he was just <em> angry </em> but more than that he was fucking <em> scared </em>—</p><p>  He didn’t realize his hands were stretched out in front of him until he heard a shout. The unmistakable <em> thump-thump-thump </em> of a body tumbling down the stairs. The chilling <em> snap </em>of a neck. </p><p>Meis’ hair splayed out around him on the ground. </p><p>Lio didn’t move. Couldn’t move. His arms trembled, outstretched and frozen. He stared at the body at the bottom of the stairs, unblinking until tears welled up in his eyes. The door to the stairwell burst open somewhere in the background, his mind filled with TV static. The kind you’d hear after the cable shut off, channels too tired to keep talking about this and that. Lio supposed his mind was like that, too tired to keep thinking of this, of his best friend’s body laying on the ground in an awkward, painful angle. Too tired to register Mr. Thymos sprinting down the stairs to check for a pulse, screaming at Lio to dial 911. </p><p>Tired, too fucking tired. Why wasn’t Meis getting up, already?</p><p>He felt hands on him, on his arms, bringing them down to his sides. His shoulders shook, someone was shaking them. Lio looked up and saw blue, blue, blue. Wide eyes, but not the kind that made him feel warm and fuzzy. Worried tone, but not the kind that made him weak at the knees. Mr. Thymos was asking him if he was okay, if he saw what happened, Jesus, Lio, what the fuck happened, why aren’t you <em> saying </em> anything, Meis just broke his neck.</p><p>Meis just broke his fucking neck. </p><p><em> Lio </em> just broke his best friend’s fucking neck. </p><p>He looked down the stairs again at the body. Tears blurred his vision until all he saw was a blob of black and pale white, outstretched and ugly. Lio barely heard himself mumble out a confession, sinking to his knees. </p><p>Mr. Thymos followed him to the floor, hands still on his shoulders. “You <em> what?”  </em></p><p>“I—” he stopped, eyes still trained on Meis. “I pushed— I pushed him. I didn’t… I didn’t think I’d— I was just—”</p><p>His voice sounded weird, hiccuping and gasping for air. Lio didn’t notice he was sobbing until Mr. Thymos had him in his arms, against his chest. Saying something about calming down. Something about it being an accident. </p><p>Lio knew better. He <em> wanted </em> to push him. He wanted to push him and kill him and stop him from getting what he wanted. He wanted to kill Meis. </p><p>He wanted to kill his best friend for— for <em> what? </em></p><p>Someone was screaming, and they sounded an awful lot like himself. His throat was raw, aching from the pain that came with crying. The person screaming was screaming Meis’ name, something about being sorry. </p><p>“Listen to me,” Mr. Thymos said, sounding like a real goddamn teacher for the first time in his life, “Look at me, Lio, okay? Just listen to me. You listening?” </p><p>Lio nodded, tearing his eyes away from Meis.</p><p>“I’m— I’m taking the fall for this. Okay? You’re not going to get in trouble for this. <em> I </em> am. Alright? Do you understand what I’m telling you?” </p><p>Something in his tone unsettled Lio, but he didn’t have the mind to dwell on it. All he knew was that Meis was dead and Mr. Thymos was suddenly going to make it all go away, somehow. “How are you— How?”</p><p>Mr. Thymos’ grip tightened on his shoulders. His eyes were wet. “If you— If you really <em> pushed </em>him, Lio, you could go to prison. You’re eighteen, you’re not a minor. They can try you as an adult and you’ll be put away for real, okay?”</p><p>Prison. Minor. Not a Minor. Adult. The words bounced in Lio’s head, things he’d only heard on crime shows, faraway things that could never possibly happen to him. Shows he’d probably watched with Meis and Gueira, staying up late during sleepovers with too much sugar in their twelve year old systems. </p><p>“I killed him,” Lio’s voice was barely a whisper. His throat felt too sore. “I killed him, Mr. Thymos, I— I called him <em> broken. </em>He was trying to stop us, I was just… ”</p><p><em> He was trying to stop </em> me, Lio meant, <em> He was only looking out for me but I </em>—</p><p>“Lio.”</p><p>Mr. Thymos stood up. </p><p>“You didn’t kill him, okay? You didn’t.”</p><p>Lio looked at the body at the bottom of the stairs. </p><p>“I did.”</p><p>He had braided that same hair this past weekend. Gueira teased them for it.</p><p>“You’re going to tell the police that I did.” </p><p>The fire alarm went off. </p><p>△</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I think I’m gonna run away.”  </em>
</p><p>Lio looked at the boy next to him, blinking wide.<em> “What? Why?” </em></p><p>He didn’t meet Lio’s eyes, keeping his eyes trained on the fairy lights strung along his ceiling. Lio’s mother had insisted he keep them up— <em> for the nightmares, Lio, I know you act like you don’t get them anymore, but I’ve heard differently </em>— for years, since he was a kid and still scared of the monsters under his bed. </p><p>His hair was shorter. Had to chop it all off unless he wanted his daddy to yank on it and ask if he was taking it like a girl, too. It made Lio’s blood boil when he told him, hot tears welling in his eyes because he was just so <em> angry.  </em></p><p>Meis never complained, though. Didn’t have a choice, even when it went past name calling. </p><p><em> “There’s nothing really here for me, dude.” </em> He said, sighing. <em> “Besides you and Gueira, what do I really got here?” </em></p><p><em> “I mean, high school’s gonna be different.” </em> Lio tried, shifting to lay on his side to face Meis. <em> “Could be better.” </em></p><p>The boy shook his head, closed his eyes. <em> “Doubt it. It’ll be the same crap. My dad will make sure of it.” </em></p><p>Lio didn’t say anything, just watched him. The fairy lights gave him a dreamy glow, skin radiant and eyes bright. He remembered feeling warm whenever Meis was in his room and under the glow of his lights, a fuzzy kind of happiness that throbbed in his chest whenever they could have sleepovers like this. He enjoyed Gueira’s company, of course, but Meis was the first out of the two to reach out to him when he transferred. The first to really be a friend towards him after he moved.</p><p>Lio sat up. <em> “If you run away, I run away, too. And Gueira.” </em></p><p>That got a laugh out of Meis, at least. <em> “Like your parents would let you out of their sight.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “I’m serious.” </em>
</p><p><em> “Okay, so we run away.” </em> Meis craned his neck to look up at the blonde, still smiling. <em> “Where do </em></p><p>
  <em> we go?” </em>
</p><p>Lio thought for a moment, chewing his bottom lip. Then, he snapped his fingers, smiling smugly. <em> “France. I’ve got relatives living in Paris. They’ll let us stay until we make enough money to get our own place.” </em></p><p>
  <em> “How are we gonna make money?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Easy. You’re good at hair stuff. I can probably get a job at an office. Gueira can… well, he’s okay at cooking. Maybe work at a restaurant.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “And burn it down.” </em>
</p><p>They laughed, dispelling the tense air for a moment. </p><p>Lio settled back down next to him, sliding his hand into Meis’ hesitantly. <em> “We’re not gonna let you off on your own. Promise.” </em></p><p>The boy next to him sighed, shutting his eyes. <em> “Paris, huh?” </em></p><p>Lio felt Meis squeeze his hand.</p><p>
  <em> “…Guess that doesn’t sound too bad.”<br/>
</em>
</p><p>△<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Lio was startled out of the memory by someone stepping into the interrogation room. Which, oh yeah— he was in an <em> interrogation room. </em> With a steel table and cold chairs and one sided window, just like in every single crime show he’d seen. </p><p>He felt his stomach lurch. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. He was supposed to be in his room with Meis, talking about running away to Paris. He was supposed to be staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars stamped onto his ceiling, wondering if Gueira would join them.</p><p>Instead he was being asked about Mr. Thymos. Were they close (well, define <em> close) </em> , had he talked to him much before (talked and <em> other </em> things, but let’s not get into that), did the other students like him (way more than what ought to be normal), did he see him push Meis down the stairs. </p><p>Lio’s breath caught in his throat at the question. Mr. Thymos told him to say yes, yes he <em> did </em> see him push Meis. And if Lio tried hard enough, he could almost <em> picture </em>it, his arms outstretched where Lio’s were, the wild eyes and heavy breathing, the sudden realization washing over Mr. Thymos instead of himself. </p><p>Mr. Thymos wanted to keep him out of jail. He had held him in his arms and told him he wanted to take the blame for all of this. </p><p>That <em> had </em>to be love, right?</p><p>Lio didn’t realize he was crying until the detective offered him a pack of tissues, worrying over him and his pretty tears. He wasn’t in trouble, they said, he was a witness and just needed to answer some questions. After that, he could go home.</p><p><em> Home. </em> The nausea returned full force. His parents were waiting for him outside of the interrogation room, his mother’s mascara running and his father undoubtedly pacing whatever waiting room they were in. They drove him here after they got the phone call— after <em> everyone </em>got the phone call of an incident on campus. </p><p>The ambulances were the first to arrive, then the police, then the fire department. Mr. Thymos pulled the fire alarm in the stairwell before telling Lio to get a teacher. </p><p>Everyone had flooded outside of the building, and rumors had already begun to spread. Gueira had pushed through the crowd towards the ambulances, towards <em> Lio, </em> sitting in the back of one of them with a shock blanket around his shoulders. Mr. Thymos had been taken away moments before. Meis was in one of the ambulances, packed into a body bag.</p><p>Gueira crushed him into a hug, breathing hard. “Lio, are you okay? What— What <em> happened?” </em></p><p>He didn’t know. How <em> could </em>he know. Lio was the one there. He’s the one who— </p><p>His stomach churned, voice weak. “Gueira, just… listen.” </p><p>“Is it true Mr. Thymos fucking <em> killed </em> someone?” He said, looking back towards the growing crowd. “And where’s Meis? I thought he’d be here with you first.”</p><p>Lio felt his lunch coming right back up his throat. Why’d he have to say his name? </p><p>He only had time to murmur an “oh my god” before he pushed Gueira out of the way, emptying his stomach onto the school pavement. It burned coming up; his throat was already raw from screaming so much. There were tears in his eyes, but he wasn’t sure if they were from him puking his guts out or from Gueria’s question. </p><p>“Listen, Gueria,” Lio rasped, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “I need you to— I need you to stay calm, alright?”</p><p>The brunet stared at him, voice quiet. “What-What do you mean?” </p><p>“It’s— Meis.” Lio couldn’t look at him. He stayed with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. “Meis—”</p><p>“Meis <em> what?” </em> Gueira’s voice rose. “He <em> what, </em>Lio? Where is he?”</p><p>You’re not in trouble, Lio, the detective said again, even as Lio cried harder. All he could hear were Gueria’s sobs (or were those his own? He couldn’t fucking tell anymore, everything blurred together like the whirr of the ceiling fan in this interrogation room). </p><p>He wasn’t in trouble. He didn’t do anything. He’s a victim. His friend was murdered. He was innocent. </p><p>Innocent. </p><p>△<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>School had to continue despite there being one less gym teacher and one less student on campus. </p><p>There was a break in classes, of course. Everyone was granted a week off to grieve on their own if they knew Meis or even gave a rat’s ass about him. Principal Foresight offered his personal condolences to Lio and his family, but he could tell he was on edge. No one was expecting Mr. Thymos to do something like this.</p><p>Lio had to testify. He was a <em> witness— </em> the word made him want to laugh— to the crime, after all. He was in the stairwell and watched Mr. Thymos push Meis down the stairs with great malicious intent. That’s what Mr. Thymos told him to say, anyways. That it was all on purpose, and Lio had nothing to do with it. </p><p>His parents were iffy about letting him testify, but he insisted he was comfortable with it. He was a good liar, a good actor<em> — </em>he could play the part if it were for Mr. Thymos. He had been acting as the perfect student up until this point, an encore couldn’t hurt. </p><p>It was weird seeing Mr. Thymos wearing something other than his gym shorts and school t-shirt. The orange jumpsuit he had on did nothing for his figure, Lio thought to himself with a sigh as he watched the man step into the courthouse. What a shame. </p><p>A month in prison had taken its toll on the man. The circles under his eyes had darkened, his hair lost its usual shine, his skin looked almost sickly pale. He looked as if he had lost weight, too, the skin around his face sunken in slightly. </p><p>Despite it all, Lio wanted to leap over the stand and kiss him in front of everyone.</p><p>He was called to the stand rather quickly. A lawyer stood in front of him, paced back and forth slowly as she asked him to recount what he saw. Her makeup was flawless, Lio noticed. Not a hair out of place, either. She assumed an off-hand air; this was not her first rodeo. He wondered if she had taken down other teachers for pushing their students down staircases before. </p><p>Lio recited what he and Mr. Thymos had gone over briefly before he was cuffed and shoved into a cop car. It was a bit difficult to remember because he had been sobbing and trying to breathe at the same time, but he remembered the important parts:</p><p>“I needed to speak to Mr. Thymos about a recent assignment, and I saw him go into the stairwell with Meis,” he began. </p><p>“Who was your close friend.” The woman said. She was not asking. </p><p>“Yes. We practically grew up together.” Lio answered evenly, watching the way her heels clicked against the polished floor. His fingers found a loose thread on the hem of his sweater. “I was curious when I saw them together, and I had to talk to Mr. Thymos, so I figured I’d ask him then.”</p><p>“And that’s when you saw Mr. Thymos push Meis,” She gestured towards the man, whom Lio had been actively avoiding looking at since he took a seat at the stand. “Correct?”</p><p>They met eyes, and Lio’s chest tightened. Mr. Thymos pleaded with his eyes, <em> tell them yes, tell them yes, tell them tell them tell them— </em></p><p>“Yes,” Lio answered, rolling the thread faster between his fingers until it snapped. “That’s right.”</p><p>There was a slight murmur in the room. Miss Lawyer, however, didn’t think this was enough. “And how long had Mr. Thymos been employed at your school?”</p><p>They were about to hit their seventh month anniversary next Thursday, Lio realized. “Seven months.” </p><p>“How would you describe him? Do you think he would be capable of doing something like this?”</p><p>The question weighed heavy, and Lio had to take a breath, collect his thoughts. Of <em> course </em> Mr. Thymos wouldn’t be capable of actual <em> murder, </em> the man didn’t even like to get rough in bed. Hated the thought of causing someone else pain, nearly cried every time Lio made him wrap his hands around his throat and <em> squeeze </em>. Lio wouldn’t call him spineless, not exactly, but he wasn’t totally strong-willed. </p><p>He knew what Mr. Thymos wanted him to say, but he also knew he couldn’t completely change the truth. He picked and chose his next words carefully, not entirely true but not outright lying, either. </p><p>“Everyone on campus respects him. He takes our health seriously, takes the time to actually talk to us outside of class,” Lio said, following the woman’s heels with his eyes. “He’s strict, but not mean. I liked talking to him about my personal problems because he liked to listen, gave good advice.</p><p>I didn’t think he would do something like this. Not to Meis, not to anyone. He said he cared about us. But I guess he put up a good front, didn’t he?” He wanted to laugh, but restrained himself. Miss Lawyer stopped pacing and stared at him from across the room, instead. “People often have two sides to their personalities, after all.”<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>△<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The funeral helped process things. Seeing the body – open casket, per request of Meis’ father and grandmother – was beyond unsettling, but it was something Lio knew he had to do. Gueira was taking it just as hard as Lio and doing a shit job at hiding it. He couldn’t bring himself to go near the body. Lio stayed with him all throughout the service, holding his hand and rubbing circles into his back until it was time to lower the casket.</p><p>Watching it go down was just as hard as seeing the body. Lio couldn’t help but think back to how Meis’ body bounced down the stairs, hearing the <em> thump-thump-thump </em>over and over in his head. Gueira’s shoulders were shaking next to him, furiously wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his dress jacket. </p><p>Later, once everyone had paid their respects and wished Meis’ family the best, Gueira and Lio sat on the rooftop of Lio’s house, having slipped through the window to his room. Their parents were sharing coffee downstairs, wondering <em> how </em> this could have happened, how had no one else seen Mr. Thymos with Meis in the stairwell, how on earth was this going to affect Lio’s <em> mental </em> health, of all things. As if Gueira wasn’t sitting next to him trying to drown himself in too-strong alcohol. </p><p>Gueira tipped the bottle of whiskey Lio swiped from his father’s cabinet back, wincing at the burn. He passed it to Lio, voice quiet. “You saw it happen, right?” </p><p>His fingers fumbled, but he managed to wrap his hand around the neck of the bottle. “Kind of. It all… happened too fast.”</p><p>“I just<em> — </em> ” Gueira ran his hands down from his wiry hair over his eyes, rubbing at them. “I should have been there. I should have… <em> done </em>something. I don’t even know where the hell I was at that time.”</p><p>Lio set the bottle down, grateful to avoid taking a sip. Whiskey had never been his favorite, but he knew how much Gueira and Meis liked the occasional drink whenever they slept over. He was never one to deny them. </p><p>He scooched closer towards Gueira, extending a hand to rub circles onto his back. He was grateful he didn’t have to look him in the eye, at least for the moment. It had been hard enough during the day. “None of us could ever see this coming, Gueira. It isn’t your fault.”</p><p><em> It’s mine, </em> he wanted to say, but the words refused to come out. He wondered how Gueira would even take the reality of what happened, if he would even <em> believe </em> him. He could push him off of this rooftop and Lio wouldn’t even fight back. </p><p>His mind kept replaying that moment over and over. The feeling of his hands against Meis’ back, pushing with all of his infuriated strength. Revelling for a few guilty, fleeting moments in the sound of Meis’ body hitting the steps. </p><p>The brunet breathed in deep, the tears coming back for the tenth time that day. “If I had known that would be the last time we’d ever see him, I would have told him<em> — </em>told him…”</p><p>He didn’t have to finish. Lio had known since they were sophomores, had watched the way Gueria would smile a little brighter around Meis just because it was <em> Meis </em>. </p><p>“I think…” Lio said quietly, “He would have felt the same way.” </p><p>He pulled Gueira closer, settling his cheek onto his hair. The ache in his throat returned, except this time he didn’t swallow it away. </p><p><br/>
△</p><p>Despite it all, the world had to go on. </p><p>It was never quite the same between Gueira and Lio. There was something missing between them, and they both knew what<em> — </em> or rather, who <em> — </em> it was, but neither of them had the heart to break off the friendship. They had become so familiar with one another, after all. They practically knew all of each other’s secrets. </p><p>Well, almost all of them.</p><p>Lio’s mother smoothed out his dress shirt for the fortieth time that morning, murmuring something about his shoes needing to be shined before hurrying towards her room for hairspray. His father was downstairs entertaining their extended family, flown in from London a few days before. </p><p>His cap and gown were laid on his bed, made neatly that morning. </p><p>Lio received acceptance letters from all five universities he applied to, with three offering him full rides. He expected this, but his parents still treated him as if he had won first place at the olympics. Which was<em> — </em>sweet, honestly. A change from their usual underwhelmed demeanor. </p><p>(He supposed the death of one of his best friends had come in handy, after all.)</p><p>In just a few hours, he would be walking across a stage to receive a phony diploma (as the real one would be mailed in a few weeks) and start his life as an upcoming college freshman. He was an <em> adult, </em>technically speaking. Free to go on his own and get whatever outrageous tattoo or piercing he wanted without anyone telling him otherwise. Free to eat whatever he wanted, read whatever he wanted, date whoever he wanted. </p><p>Even if the person he wanted more than anything wasn’t around to share in his new freedom. </p><p>Lio rubbed his ring finger with his thumb through his leather glove, feeling for the bump and curve of the matching engagement ring he purchased alongside Mr. Thymos’. He liked to wear it when nobody was looking, daydreaming of a different lifetime where things went <em> right </em>and he didn’t screw them over from the very beginning. </p><p>After his mother sprayed enough hairspray to add another hole in the ozone layer, he locked his bedroom door, thankful for some space to himself before he would be surrounded by crowds. </p><p>Removing the glove, he let his eyes rake over the ring, a darker shade of silver than Mr. Thymos’ band. It fit perfectly, snug and warm against his skin. </p><p>Lio already told himself that he’d ask again in a few years. When he was older, when he was more experienced and <em> ready </em>to take care of Mr. Thymos. They could live out the rest of their days peacefully, and their neighbors will ask how they’re still so in love even after so much time together, to which they’ll just shrug and laugh it off. He couldn’t wait to be the couple that people marvelled at. </p><p>He glanced at his watch. </p><p>If Mr. Thymos refused to see him in person, he could still reach him in other ways. </p><p>Grabbing a pen and paper, he popped his bedroom window open. It was late afternoon, </p><p>early evening, and the sky was his favorite color of peach with streaks of aqua. The breeze was warm, rustling his clothes as it carried a distant tune from downstairs. Something vintage, just what Mr. Thymos would listen to. </p><p>Things were hard now, but they were going to get better. Lio was going to get him back, </p><p>and things could go back to how they were. Theirs was the greatest love story, after all. He truly believed that. </p><p>He set pen to paper, on the rooftop of his home under the cotton-candied clouds: </p><p>
  <em> Mr. Thymos— </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>we are NOT DONE, pardners</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>a change in POV???? more likely than u think</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lio was graduating today. </p><p>He had memorized the date, counting down to the exact time he would be walking across the stage. The exact moment he would be free. </p><p>Things derailed a bit, but Galo wouldn’t change any of it. Prison was just as good if not <em> better </em>than being anywhere Lio could get his hands on him. At least inside these walls, he was somewhat safe. </p><p>Lio murdering one of his friends was a blessing in disguise, and the fact that he was there to take the fall for it was practically a gift from above. He didn’t mind having manslaughter on his record for the rest of his life<em> — </em>he could get a simple job somewhere far away from here and start over. He would be able to go back to his ordinary life and try to forget ever being a high school gym teacher. </p><p>He could forget ever meeting Lio Fotia. </p><p>Making friends was neither easy nor on his agenda while in prison. Lucky for Galo, murdering a teenage student was enough for people to stay away from you during meal and rec times. Even if he never actually did it. </p><p>Being away from Lio provided him with a lot of time to himself, which also meant a lot of time to think. Not exactly self-reflection, just<em> — </em> thinking. A few months ago, when Lio had proposed to him in the faculty offices at dusk, he mentioned the “what-ifs” and “maybes”, trying to give Lio some sort of hope and closure. He said it as a spur of the moment sort of thing, something to get Lio to stop crying and finally off of his back. </p><p>But after a lot of time thinking, he began to wonder: what <em> if </em>Lio had approached him normally? Confessed through a sweet letter, a red-faced declaration after graduation, a message on social media years into college?</p><p>Lio was attractive, and anyone could see that. Galo always thought he was a cute kid, but maybe once he wasn’t his student and instead off at college… </p><p>He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t wondered what he would look like once he had his own life away from his constricting parents. Maybe the time away would do him some good, give him some room to breathe and do what <em> he </em>wanted to do. Lio had always talked about getting intricate tattoos, piercings where he knew his parents would freak, dye his hair wild colors just to piss people off. Part of Galo thought the little rebel in him was cute. The other, bigger part was still absolutely terrified of him.</p><p>Late at night, when his bunkmate was fast asleep and he was really, <em> truly </em> left alone with his thoughts, they took a different turn. If they had <em> really </em> dated once Lio was a bit older, would he still be so <em> — rough? </em> Galo hated to admit it, but all of those months spent tied up, bruised and bloody had left him with a taste for it. He <em> liked </em> getting hurt. He found himself craving Lio’s touch more and more, and he absolutely despised himself for it. Galo loathed how often he replayed those moments in his head, muffling his voice in his pillow while he could practically hear Lio’s sweet talk, asking him if he was close, <em> do you want more, baby? I can give it to you if you ask nicely, you know how good you sound when you beg— </em></p><p>It was fucked up, but Galo couldn’t help but crave the familiarity. Lio knew how to wind him up and tear him down; he had it down to an exact science at that point. Who else would be able to break him down into a writhing mess with just a few touches? </p><p>Still, Galo would never go back to those days. He could barely live like that, and sometimes he asked himself how he ever <em> did </em>live that way. Having to always glance back over his shoulder, triple check every empty classroom he went into, lock and relock his front, back and side doors at home. </p><p>There was a point, around senior prom, where the pills began to look a little too enticing. The jump ropes he used during class would have also worked as nooses. Any of his kitchen knives were more than sharp enough to pierce skin.</p><p>And yet, he never did it. Ultimately, Galo is glad he didn’t. Now he has the chance to start over. </p><p>Evening rolled around as usual. Dinner was uneventful, rec time was spent reading until he decided to head back to his cell. </p><p>His bunkmate was still out, so Galo didn’t glance up from setting out his pillow until he heard a different voice. They had a letter in their hand, the color of lavender. </p><p>It was rare for him to receive mail of any kind. None of the school faculty had tried to reach out to him, not even Foresight<em> — </em> which he had gotten over rather quickly <em> — </em>and he didn’t have any family left to ask for him. </p><p>Galo opened the letter gingerly, taking a seat on the bottom bunk. </p><p>The handwriting looked eerily familiar:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Mr. Thymos,  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> School was different without you. The new gym teacher wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic about running laps as you were, and he definitely doesn’t have the legs to rock those shorts of yours. People went back to skipping gym after you left.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I was mostly by myself by the end of the semester. Gueria hardly showed up to school anymore. Too busy feeling sorry for himself about not confessing to Meis when he had the chance. I have a feeling Meis sort of knew, but then again, we didn’t really talk much this past semester. I was too busy with you to really pay attention to them.  </em>
</p><p><em> I don’t know if you care to hear it, but I </em> do <em> miss you. Before you, I never really had anyone like that— never dated because I always had Meis and Gueira. And before them, I had a hard time making friends. So when they started hanging out with me when I moved here, I was really, really grateful. But I didn’t have time to think about things like dating or sex. I mean, I’ve told you about my parents. Even Foresight had expectations for me to meet. I was… under a lot of pressure. </em></p><p><em> Which is why I thought it would be fun to start something with you. You were so bright-eyed and enthusiastic about teaching, about your students. I know you probably never noticed me, which is why I thought it would be easy. I didn’t </em> want <em> to have to use blackmail against you. Any other adult in your shoes would have gone along with what I wanted. I never understood why you </em> didn’t. <em> I took it personally at first, but after getting to actually know you, I realized you just weren’t that kind of person. </em></p><p><em> If I say sorry, would you forgive me? I don’t necessarily feel sorry about doing the things we did together. I don’t feel sorry for kissing you, or touching you, or the million other things we did. I would never take back any of those moments. But I also know you hated all of it. Hell, you probably hate </em> me. <em> I used to be okay with knowing you hated me, and if anything, it only made me want to hurt you more, but after all that’s happened… I hate the idea of you hating me. I hate that I hurt you. I hate what happened with Meis, I hate that you took the fall for it, I hate that you’re not here right now to watch me walk across the stage.  </em></p><p>
  <em> I really fucked things up for us, didn’t I?  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I didn’t expect to fall for you. You were supposed to be an outlet. Just someone I could fool around with. Having you under my thumb was a thrill, knowing you were terrified of getting arrested or getting caught with a student. But something just… changed. I was obsessed with you. I wanted to know everything about you, I wanted to be with you every moment of the day. No one had made me feel that way before, and I was honestly a little scared. I didn’t know what else to call it besides being in love.  </em>
</p><p><em> And I </em> still <em> love you, Galo. I always will. I just wish things had worked out a little differently for us. Maybe if I was older, maybe if my parents weren’t my parents, maybe if I had waited until after I graduated to tell you how I felt, maybe if I didn’t treat this like a game… maybe, maybe, maybe.  </em></p><p>
  <em> Stupid of me to try to come up with what-ifs after everything’s that happened. I know you don’t want to see me. I don’t know how many times I’ve tried to visit you only to get turned away. Which is understandable, and I’m not blaming you at all. I just want to tell you I’m sorry in person. But maybe this is easier, less emotions involved and less confrontation. I know you hate confrontation.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m not asking you to forgive me, or even to write me back. I can’t imagine how things are going in there, so no pressure on getting back to me. It’s only a few more years until you’re let out, anyways.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And when you’re out, I’ll be waiting.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’ll always wait for you.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yours, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Lio Fotia  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Galo evened out his breathing, re-reading the letter over and over. He shouldn’t be surprised; Lio tried to <em> propose </em> to him, for Christ’s sake. A letter like this wasn’t nearly as demented as Galo knew he could be, but the fact that Lio was thinking of him…</p><p>Easy. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Loosen the tightness in his chest. Relax his muscles. </p><p>He’s safe. Lio couldn’t come in no matter how many times he tried, as Galo constantly refused to see any visitors (only because he knew his only visitor would be <em> Lio). </em> He did all of this to get <em> away </em> from him, ruined his reputation just to get a moment’s peace from him. Lio wouldn’t be coming back into his life that easily. Galo would rather <em> die </em>than be anywhere near him again. </p><p>And yet<em> —  </em></p><p><em> “God, you just love this, don’t you?” Lio breathed, pressing his forehead against Mr. Thymos’. “And you </em> hate <em> how much you do.” </em></p><p>Maybe he <em> did </em> love it.</p><p>
  <em> When he looked back towards Mr. Thymos, his eyes were aglow with the winking fairy lights. “I’d call it love, Mr. Thymos.” </em>
</p><p>Maybe it <em> was </em> love.</p><p>
  <em> “This is your fault, Mr. Thymos,” Lio said, leaning forward so that their noses brushed. “I’ve never wanted to do this to anyone before you.” </em>
</p><p>Maybe it <em> was </em> his fault.</p><p>Something red caught his attention on the opposite side of the page. </p><p>The handwriting was messy and animalistically unhinged, splattered with red:</p><p>
  <b> <em>MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS MR THYMOS I LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU LOVE YOU</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>LOVE YOU</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>LOVE YOU</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>LOVE YOU</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>LOVE YOU</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>LOVE YOU</em> </b>
</p><p>
  <b> <em>LOVE YOU</em> </b>
</p><p> </p><p>When Galo glanced out of his window, he had to do a double take. </p><p>He could have sworn he saw a head of blonde hair on the other side of the chain link fence. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I dont think any of us expected this fic to go where it did but teacher au rly makes u do crazy things huh!!!! </p><p>again thank u to cyn for giving me evil ideas for this series. even when we were at disneyworld we were being evil. idk where i'd be without her (￣ε￣＠)</p><p>and thanks for all the epic feedback i've gotten!! v satisfied with how this turned out. this au rly has taken over my life at this point, this may as well be my dissertation</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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